


To Find Love Among The Stars.

by CupCakezys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Getting Together, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Stargazing, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 01:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19938175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupCakezys/pseuds/CupCakezys
Summary: Merlin, new to the cold and impersonal Camelot, misses the love and closeness of home. This is his journey to finding that love and closeness again, with the most unlikely of princes.





	To Find Love Among The Stars.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arthur_pendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/gifts).



Merlin missed Ealdor.

He missed the simplicity of it. He missed waking up every morning and knowing his biggest responsibility was getting the harvest in on time. He missed being able to disappear, to mess around in the woods all day and come home and know he would be in for a scolding, but that no one would be dead or enchanted because he’d taken a day off. He missed his mother and Will, missed seeing them each and every day.

Merlin missed Ealdor so badly some days it _ached_.

It occurred to him one day, as he was making Arthur’s bed after he’d woken up and thrown the sheets everywhere, that what he missed about Ealdor the most was the closeness.

It was easy, in this giant castle full of people he barely knew, to go days without any touch. Gaius helped, sometimes, though he preferred comforting words over the hugs his mother had so freely given him. Gaius’s favourite form of touch seemed to involve smacking Merlin upside the head whenever he did anything even slightly foolish. Gwen have him smiles and hugs, occasionally, and there had been that one kiss when she’d thought he’d died, but mostly they stuck to leaning close and giggling about the latest castle gossip, or Arthur after he’d done something extremely Arthur-ish and stupid.

And Arthur, well. The prince was, surprisingly, the most physically affectionate person Merlin had met thus far in Camelot. He offered friendly pats and punches, bumped his shoulder when Merlin was being particularly insulting and he couldn’t admit he enjoyed the banter, even ruffled Merlin’s hair on days he was feeling particularly playful.

His touches, though, somehow felt… not impersonal, exactly, but distant.

Merlin knew why, of course. Arthur was the Crowned Prince of Camelot, and as such he had been raised with certain rules and expectations. Chief among them; don’t trust anyone, and especially don’t show anyone your affection. And it was a teaching Merlin knew Arthur broke in many small ways, from his quick touches with Merlin to wrestling with his knights.

Merlin also knew it wasn’t enough for Arthur.

Hell, _he_ was slowly being driven mad from the lack of touch, the lack of love and closeness in Camelot, and he’d only been here eight months. What must it have been like, to grow up here, to live in this world where no one ever hugged or leaned on each other just for the sake of it, just to feel connected, to feel _loved_.

Lonely, Merlin thought. It must have been very lonely.

* * *

“What do you miss most about Ealdor?” Arthur asked, exactly two months later, and a month since they had battled Kanen.

Merlin looked up from where he was scrubbing the floor. “What?”

Arthur shifted, stared at the paper in his hand like he didn’t care for Merlin’s answer. “It’s just, Ealdor is so different from Camelot.” Arthur’s eyes flickered to his. “There must be something you miss about it.”

Merlin went back to scrubbing. “Since when are you interested in my life?”

Arthur grunted and mumbled something Merlin couldn’t hear. He ignored him, trying to concentrate on the brush in his hands even as he pondered Arthur’s question. He found his answer hadn’t changed. He missed his mother’s hugs, the comforting squeeze of her hand when he was upset, Will-

He gasped, a flair of pain making sudden tears spring to his eyes. Oh, _Will_.

“The work was better.” He blurted out, desperately trying to drown out his thoughts. “There were no prattish princes to give us ridiculous chores, for one.”

Arthur snorted. “They’re not ridiculous, _Mer_ lin, you’re just hopeless.”

They worked in silence for another moment, then Merlin sighed and sat back. “I miss my mum, most of all. I miss waking up to her singing in the kitchen and her hugs when I’d go out to do my chores for the day.” He grinned. “She used to warn me, everyday, ‘don’t get into trouble today Merlin, I know what your like.’ Will would joke-“

He cut himself off with a strangled sound as what he was saying caught up with him. Tears stung his eyes again, and he squeezed the brush tightly. A lump formed in his throat and he couldn’t speak through it, no matter how hard he tried.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. He followed the hand up to Arthur, close and comforting.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur said lowly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Merlin shook his head, swiping at his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just-“ He shuddered, just trying to _breathe_. “I just miss him.”

Arthur shifted, crouched down next to him. He looked uncomfortable. Merlin wasn’t surprised – he’d probably never had to deal with a crying servant before. Arthur said nothing, and instead Merlin felt a hesitant arm settle around his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, and for a moment he felt like everything would be okay.

* * *

Seeing Arthur dead was world ending. Merlin felt like everything had come crashing down around him. He stared in horror as Arthur fell, the goblet tumbling to the ground moments before the prince himself. He launched himself out of his seat, horror and desperation crawling up his throat, as he grabbed Arthur from the ground and cradled his head in his lap.

“Arthur! No!”

Merlin shook him, desperate. Arthur lay still, lifeless, _gone,_ and Merlin shook his head in denial even as the tears welled up.

“Arthur.” He said, _pleaded_. “Arthur. Come on! Arthur, come on. Come on. Come on!” Arthur refused to move, because he was a total prat and was far too self sacrificial for a prince, but not because he was dead, he _couldn’t_ be dead. “No... Come on.”

He patted at his cheek, weakly, as acceptance settled deep in his heart. His hands roamed all over Arthur’s face, up and down his chest, _touching_ , in a way he hadn’t had the courage to before, in a way he wouldn’t ever be able to again. He gripped Arthur’s hand tight and stared up at Anhora pleadingly.

“Please.” His breath caught on a sob and he had to stop before he could continue. “Please! Just... let me take his place!”

What did his life matter, in comparison to a prince’s? More than that, what did his life matter compared to _Arthur’s_? Arthur was his prince, his Once and Future King, the one Merlin would give his life for a thousand times over. Arthur was his _everything_ , he was _nothing_ without him.

Anhora shook his head. “This was Arthur's test, not yours.”

Merlin pulled Arthur close to him and _glared_ , fury and hate filling up his chest so fast it should have terrified him. “You've killed him!” He accused, then deflated, hand cradling Arthur’s face as he stared at him in despair. “I was meant to protect him.”

Anhora shifted towards him, and Merlin’s magic crackled around him in warning. “He is not dead.” Merlin jerked and looked up into calm eyes. “He's merely consumed a sleeping draught. He will come round shortly.”

His eyes widened, and everything froze. “What?”

Anhora stared at Arthur, and Merlin couldn’t stop himself from pulling his prince closer and hunching over him protectively. “A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving that you also are pure of heart. Arthur was willing to sacrifice his life to save yours. He has proven what is truly in his heart. The curse will be lifted.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest. _Not dead not dead not dead not dead_ \- _Arthur wasn’t dead_. He lowered his ear to Arthur’s chest and held his breath. It took an awful, terrifying moment, but then Merlin felt a heartbeat, so strong he wondered how he hadn’t felt it before.

He breathed out shakily. “He’s okay.”

“He is.” Anhora nodded, and then he was gone, leaving Merlin alone on a beach with an unconscious Arthur.

Merlin shifted on the ground. Arthur didn’t so much as stir, but now he was looking Merlin could tell he was breathing, steady and strong. He carefully set him down, just so he could move him into a more comfortable position. Then he pulled Arthur’s head back into his lap, one hand on his chest to make sure he kept breathing, and waited.

Arthur was a comforting weight against him. It was almost, _almost_ , like hugging, if Merlin thought of hugging in the most broadest of terms. Something in him settled, something that had been restless and wanting since he had left Ealdor and his mother behind. He pulled Arthur a little closer, let his free hand settle on golden hair.

Arthur woke slowly, without his usual shifting and groaning. Merlin paused, his hand still combing through golden stands. His whole being seemed to freeze as Arthur groaned and blinked open his blue, blue eyes.

“Merlin?” Arthur coughed and looked around in confusion. “What-?”

Merlin laughed, tears in his eyes again. “You prat. You stupid, self-sacrificing _prat_.”

Arthur made a protesting noise deep in his throat, though he didn’t actually say anything. Arthur’s hand gripped the one Merlin had on his chest. Bolts of _something_ went up Merlin’s arm at the skin on skin contact. He gasped silently, fist tightening against Arthur’s armour.

“Merlin.” Arthur said again. “Merlin, why aren’t I dead?”

Merlin shook his head, smoothed Arthur’s hair down. “It was a sleeping draught. Anhora said you had to prove you were pure of heart, like a unicorn, and by drinking the goblet you’d proven yourself.” He smiled a watery smile. “You lifted the curse.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I did?”

Merlin nodded and Arthur barked a laugh, short and relieved. Merlin grinned with him, not quite able to bring himself to laugh. Arthur hadn’t moved from his lap, and Merlin found he never wanted him to. He’d happily spend the rest of his life like this, destiny be damned.

When Arthur did move, Merlin almost didn’t let him go. He clung to him for a second, then coughed and helped him sit up, his hand lingering on his back for as long as possible. Then Arthur stood, and his touch was gone completely. He curled his hand into a fist against his chest, tried to keep the feeling of another person close.

“We had best be going.” Arthur said, stretching and not looking at all effected by the loss of contact like Merlin. He wondered if Arthur even felt it, the hollow loneliness that so often pulled at Merlin’s insides. “I want to see for myself if the curse was lifted.”

Merlin watched as Arthur walked away, past the table and the goblets and back towards Camelot. And the sudden need rose up in Merlin, rose from the depths of his mind and held him tight as a vice. He _needed_ to tell Arthur about his magic. It was unexpected and unexplainable, why now of all times was the right moment. But he knew it was, could feel it in his bones, and even deeper, in the core of who he was, in the restless magic racing through his blood.

He had to tell him.

“Arthur.” It slipped out before Merlin could stop it, one word after another. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Arthur’s eyes went soft, and Merlin almost crumbled under that gaze, almost told him it was nothing so they could continue on like they always had. “What is it?”

Merlin took a deep breath.

* * *

Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of hurt and betrayal and anger. Two weeks of not looking at him, of not so much as letting him close enough to perform his duties. Two weeks without any playful banter or friendly shoves. Two weeks of crushing doubt and loneliness and _despair_ , rivalling what he felt when he had thought Arthur dead in his arms.

It took two weeks after Merlin told Arthur about his magic for the prince summoned him to his chambers. Merlin sent Gaius a desperate look, and his mentor sent a reassuring one back. Merlin ached for a hug, a pat on the shoulder, hell, even a ruffle of his hair. But he had learned Camelot wasn’t like that, knew he had to be content with what he could get, so he just squared his shoulders and made his way to Arthur’s chambers.

The servants whispered as he walked past. Arthur’s dismissal of him had been clear, and no one apart from Arthur and Merlin knew why he had been dismissed, though plenty had asked. Well, Gaius knew. There was no way he could have hid what had happened, even if he had wanted to, so he hadn’t even tried.

Merlin did his best to ignore the whispers, and before he was really ready, he found himself outside Arthur’s door. Why had Arthur called him now? Had he come to a decision on what to do with his knowledge of Merlin’s magic? Was he going to dismiss him? Banish him? _Kill_ him?

Merlin shook his head and took a deep breath. He trusted Arthur. He wasn’t going to kill him, and if he wanted him gone then he would have told Merlin to leave that day on the beach. He squared his shoulders and knocked on Arthur’s door.

“Enter.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest as he pushed the door open.

Arthur was, unfairly, even more beautiful than Merlin remembered. Golden sunlight made him shine like something eternal, no magic required. It made his heartbeat speed up, blood pumping loudly in his ears.

Arthur was stood by the window, faced away from Merlin when he spoke.

“You’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin flinched. “I have magic, yes.”

He hadn’t had the time to explain the difference between a sorcerer and a warlock, hadn’t been able to say much really. Arthur had all but shut down when he had finally told him his secret. He hadn’t said anything as Merlin hurried to explain that he only ever used it to protect, only ever used it for his prince and Camelot. Arthur had wanted to deny it, Merlin knew, but a whispered spell and flash of his eyes silenced him before he could say anything. Arthur’s jaw had set, and Merlin had felt himself grow hollow as his everything turned away from him.

At least Arthur had snapped for him to follow, even if he refused to talk or look at him.

“You lied to me.”

Merlin shook. “I did.” He took two steps forward before he sank to his knees. “I’m so sorry Arthur. I didn’t want to lie to you, I swear it. I wanted to tell you months ago, but...”

He heard Arthur move, saw his shoes turn around. “But what?”

Merlin glanced up through his hair, a weak grin on his face. “You’d have chopped my head off.”

Arthur opened his mouth, denial on his tongue. He paused, and Merlin saw the exact moment he realised he couldn’t deny it. His face paled and his mouth clicked shut, the only sound in the now silent room. Merlin dropped his head.

“Why tell me now?” Arthur finally asked.

“I don’t know.” Merlin shrugged. “It just felt right. I thought-“ He voice got caught on the lump in his throat, and he had to swallow several times before he continued. “I thought you’d died and I realised that I couldn’t keep lying to you. Not when you’d willingly give your life for me like that.” He looked to his knees, fighting down the flush that came from knowing how much Arthur cared for him. “And I trust you.”

_You’re my everything. How could I keep lying to you?_

Arthur looked surprised at the news, but nodded his acceptance. Merlin shakily pushed himself to his feet, and they both waited in awkward silence for a moment before Arthur spoke again.

“Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Merlin looked at him, fidgeted, and looked away. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Merlin looked up to Arthur, saw something wanting and desperate. “Is there something you want me to tell you?” Arthur sucked in a breath and turned away. Merlin took a half a step forward. “Arthur?”

Arthur refused to face him, straight backed and every inch the prince of Camelot. “That day, on the beach. I…” His shoulders dropped slightly. “I thought you were going to say something else.”

Arthur wasn’t going to say anything more. Merlin cocked his head, confused. What could Arthur have thought he was going to say? He thought back to that day two weeks ago. He thought about the desperation and despair, his panic and inability to let Arthur go until he knew he was okay. He thought about the way Arthur stayed in his lap, hand over his, seemingly content to stay there. How he had let Merlin play with his hair, how his eyes had gone soft when Merlin had told him there was something he needed to tell him.

The realisation hit him so hard he almost fell over.

“I love you.” Merlin blurted before he could stop himself.

Arthur whipped around, mouth hanging open in a way Merlin would tease him about if they were talking about anything else. As it was, he could barely think past the pounding in his heart. Arthur’s cheeks flushed red, and Merlin grew more confident.

“That’s what you thought I was going to say.” He said, watching Arthur shift in embarrassment. He opened his mouth, but Merlin continued before he could say anything. “It’s true. I do love you. But I couldn’t say it without you knowing me, _all_ of me.”

“And do I?” Arthur asked. “Do I know all of you?”

“You’re one of the few that do.”

Arthur studied him for a long moment. “Who else have you told?”

Merlin thought for a moment. “No one.” At Arthur’s disbelieving look he shrugged. “My Mother has always known. I’ve been doing magic since I was a baby. Will-“ He chocked a little on the name. “Will found out when he caught me practicing magic.” He hesitated, but Arthur deserved his honesty now. “Gaius found out when I used magic to save him, and Lancelot heard me enchanting his lance to kill the griffin.” He shrugged. “And that’s it.”

Arthur sat on his bed, staring at Merlin in what he liked to believe might be a little bit of wonder. “I’m the first person you’ve willingly told?”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you are.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I’m still mad at you.”

Merlin nodded. “I know. You have every right to be.”

“I’m not sure how long it will take before I can trust you again.”

“Okay.”

Arthur stood and walked to him. Sparks ran up his arms as Arthur’s hands trailed up them, the soft touch almost too much after so long without. He shivered as Arthur’s hands cupped his face, and all but swooned when a finger brushed across his lips.

“I love you too.” Arthur whispered.

And then Merlin’s whole world seemed to explode as Arthur presses their lips together. Merlin’s hands fluttered uselessly around Arthur, and then he placed his hands on Arthur’s chest so he could _touch._

They spent an eternity there, kissing and touching until Merlin could hardly breathe. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Arthur’s and gulped down as much air as he could.

“I swear to you, I will never lie to you again.” He promised. “Not about something so important.”

Arthur smiled, and Merlin swore the very core of his being lit up in joy.

* * *

"The stars are beautiful tonight.”

Arthur snorted from where he was messing with the saddle bags. “You’re such a girl Merlin.”

Merlin snorted back, eyes still locked on the stars. “Getting jealous of stars, Arthur?”

His prince spluttered, mock offended. “I am not _jealous_!”

Merlin laughed and finally looked over at him. Arthur had their large blanket in hand, along with a flagon of ale. Merlin grinned and leaned back on his palms, picnic blanket soft under him. He turned back to the stars, trying to make the same shapes his mother had shown him when he was a child.

“ _Mer_ lin.” Arthur whined. “You haven’t even gotten a fire started.”

Merlin grinned and waved his hand, not even bothering to look at what he was doing. He heard the sticks gather, felt the rush of magic and heat as they caught alight.

His grin turned smug. “Done.”

“Cheater.” Arthur mumbled.

The next instant arms wrap around his waist, and Arthur’s head was in his lap. The prat had wrapped the blanket around himself, leaving nothing for Merlin bar the corner on his legs. He didn’t mind. He was too busy revelling in the closeness, the _touch_. It had been months since he and Arthur had started courting, and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the little loving touches Arthur gave him most every hour of every day.

Merlin smiled down at his Arthur, a hand automatically going to his hair to mess with the golden locks. If Arthur were a cat, Merlin was convinced he would have started purring. The look on his face made Merlin melt each time they did this.

Arthur’s eyes opened and focused on the sky above them. “Tell me about the stars.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, the brightest star in the whole universe, and smiled. “As you wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this didn't really end up the way I wanted it to when this was a little nugget of an idea in my mind, but I think it's alright all the same? I hope you enjoyed anyway! :D


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